


The Hunter Dossier B

by woodburnb



Category: The Laundry Files - Charles Stross
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodburnb/pseuds/woodburnb
Summary: The further misadventures of Captain Helen Hunter in Section Q, (the Laundry) SOE during WW2. This dossier contains some ideas for stories from 1942 to the end of the War.





	1. 1941 London and betrayal again.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by stories from Charles Stross, and the non fiction history "The Bletchley Girls" by Tessa Dunlop  
> The best bits are inspired by Charlie, the worst bits are all my mistakes and the weird bits are true.  
> Don't provoke the wrath of the sleeping dragon on its steaming hoard!

Chapter 1 Winter 1941 London and betrayal again.

The autumn chill in London was something that always dismayed Helen. Having grown up in the tropics the slow slide into the seemingly never ending winter of Great Britain was always depressing. Doubly so now that she had left a Swedish autumn to arrive in time for one in Britain On landing at Leuchars airbase in Scotland, she had what now seemed like her one night of freedom in the officers’ mess. The next morning a squad of unsmiling RMP’s escorted her to a train back to London. She was unceremoniously dumped in the female quarters of the unsavoury barracks behind Whitehall. Without uniform and i.d., she had just followed directions and was now sat on the lower bunk in a cold and draughty dormitory feeling sorry for herself. There then seemed to be a heated discussion in the corridor. The door opened and in stepped a familiar face who saluted “Captain Hunter I presume” said Lieutenant Daphne Winters with a frown.

“Lieutenant,” I replied with a salute sensing something amiss in Daphne’s reserve.

“Well Captain if you would care to follow me” she answered and turned about down the corridor. I followed a bit dazed. Daphne was signing a clipboard and glaring at the corporal at the desk as she did so. She said nothing until we were outside the barracks on the street.

“Thank God it is you Helen. I had hoped so but was not sure until I saw you. Let’s keep walking. Quick there is a bus coming.” And with a quick trot they were on a red bus heading towards Trafalgar Square. There then followed a lot of scurrying about from bus to random bus and then a tube to Green Park. By now I had given up trying to question Daphne, damn her long legs and quick stride. The strange outlandish familiarity of London after months undercover in Scandinavia was quickly disorientating me. Surprisingly I was not returned to the barracks or the offices in Soho but delivered to my brother Toby’s house. The steps up to the door and then a warm welcome from Jenks finally reassured me I was home.

Three hours soaking in a bath and repeated hair washing eased the last of the grime from me. My evening was made complete when the friendly face of Daphne reappeared. I allowed Daphne to make a fuss of me for a while then we sat down for a meal prepared by Jenks.

“This meat is a bit oily Jenks, what is it?” I asked around a large plate of veg and a small piece of meat.

“I believe it is whale ma’am,” he replied, “more wine?”

“Oh do eat up Helen; you need building up by the look of you. The rationing has been tightened up while you were away; things are getting tougher for the convoys in the Atlantic” Daphne explained. “Anyway, I have brought some news. You have orders to appear at Dansey House tomorrow at 10.00 for a debriefing. I only found out this evening as the message came for Commander Colhoun and I had to sign for it. It all seems pretty secretive, well more so than usual, Helen. So I have signed out for you, a new uniform and some equipment that maybe handy. Jenks has put them in your room. The Laundry staff have no idea what has happened to you. Only that you left for Scotland and then were reported missing, presumed dead. Toby and I were frantic with worry, I hope you don’t mind but I sent a telegram to him as soon as I found out you were on your way. Don’t worry I was very discrete. He is in Southampton this week; I hope he comes back soon. Anyway what can you tell me about what has happened?”

“Why don’t we take the drinks through to the fire and then we can have a good chat” I replied as I got up and led Daphne through to the next room. Bright an early next morning I was adjusting my uniform in the hall mirror as I waited on Daphne. I will definitely have to get these altered to fit better it seemed active service behind enemy lines is one way to lose weight. A closer look revealed that the skin on my left cheek and neck had healed better than I had hoped for. The scarring was only there if you looked very closely, a healing gift given by my passenger. The extra equipment she had brought for me was very surprising, which gave me some pause for thought about the situation in London since my absence began. Luckily Daphne had brought a satchel for me, so my pockets weren’t too full and spoil whatever line the uniform wanted today. The weight of the Browning 45 on my hip was heavier than I remembered but was reassuring after all this time. I felt much more formidable now, considering I had escaped from Sweden in someone else’s clothes and carrying only my tattered copy of the warrant card. I heard Daphne coming down the stairs and instantly felt frumpier; she was in full WRN uniform including the hat! And some heels! Surely she is tall enough already! Curse the army and their lack of flair I thought.

“Good morning Helen, you look every inch the hero”, Daphne smiled, “I called round the office earlier and organised a car for us, shall we go?”

I followed Daphne out the door, and there was the car, as Daphne approached Perks leapt out and opened the door for her, then she noticed that I was behind Daphne and squealed with joy and gave me a hug before I could react, then she recovered herself and leapt to attention and saluted, with the biggest smile I had seen in months on her face. The emotional spike had awoken my pendent which pulsed warmly under my shirt.

“Well thank you Perks, I am glad it’s you driving today, I know that I will be in good hands” I saluted and got in the car. The drive through London traffic was non eventful, only buses and military vehicles were using the roads as petrol became impossible for the public to get. As the car approached Whitehall the number of uniforms walking on the street or guarding buildings increased dramatically. The car turned into a familiar Georgian terraced row, maybe which was why my eye was drawn to the pair of civilians stood near the corner. The men peered at the car as we went past, then reacted suddenly and went for their concealed guns.

“Perks get us out of here” I screamed at her. She accelerated the car down the road, a spattering of shots hit the back window a split second after Daphne had pushed me onto the floor and landed on top of me. A figure stepped out into the road in front of us and fired at the car hitting the tyres and engine, Perks accelerated and crashed into him then skidded hard as the tyres gave out and slewed the car round. The three of us leapt out of the doors and took shelter on the floor behind the car. I could hear shouts and running feet, I scrabbled at the satchel to get the HOG out just as Daphne and Perks popped up and let out a hammering fusillade of shots down the street, I lit it up and pumped some power into it so its effect spread out to them and the car. The street now appeared grittily dim and empty except for the dead figures lying in the road. Both Perks and Daphne were breathing heavily but still kept their guns outstretched and sweeping up and down the street.

“I think we got them Helen, you can put that out,” said Daphne.

“We will wait just a bit longer in case there was anyone else,” I hoarsely replied from the floor as I prepared a shield around the three of us. After the gunfire the only noises I could make out were the ticking of cooling metal and the drip of radiator fluid from the car. Dansey House and the buildings in its terrace flickered with a green glow as shields and wards pulsed in power around them. The HOG slowly flickered out after 5 minutes and the wreck of the Austin faded back into view. Only then did soldiers appear in doorways and start to fill the street. I waited until Daphne had identified us to the Sargent Major in charge before dropping the shield completely. No sense in being too trusting. I looked around; Perks seemed to be recovering quickly as I nodded at her. Daphne appeared unruffled by the whole incident, whereas my uniform was now dishevelled and my stockings torn at the knees, my cap had rolled into the gutter. Perks brought it back to me.

“Well if this is what it is like driving in London nowadays, I think I had better get you that armoured car, Perks. Thank you.” I managed to gasp out. So much for the returning hero, I had to get control of myself, and back in charge. Everything is a test, I thought. “Well I think we have time to freshen up before the meeting. Lieutenant Winters, Sergeant Perks with me. Sergeant Major, carry on” I ordered and marched on towards Dansey House. The three of us trooped up the stairs, Perks having appointed herself my bodyguard had glared at the door demon until it relented and allowed her in. Ten minutes frantic activity in the washroom and Daphne and Perks had me dusted down and spruced up, I even gained a pair of stockings from the ever resourceful Daphne. That only left the debriefing, which should be interesting I thought, as I waited the obligatory twenty minutes outside the door. Since the only people who knew where I would be this morning were on the other side of the door, then at least one of them wanted me dead. Now all I had to do was find out who and why?

The debriefing or interrogation, depending on which side of the desk you were on, went badly for both sides.

There was a meeting that did not take place, at a time later that day. In small bedsit flat off Paddington Square, Colhoun paced nervously across the floor waiting. His eyes flickered to the door just before there was a soft knock. The door was opened quickly and a shadowy figure stepped in.

“Well, is this site safe?” asked the chairman

“Yes, there is no connection between here and Q Section. I hold the lease in another name and keep a young lady friend in residence. It is very discreet.” Colhoun replied

“Quite” the Chairman replied coldly.

“How do you want to play Hunter?” Colhoun spoke quickly to get past the embarrassment.

“Hmm tricky, her report does tend to support my suspicions about enemy penetration of SOE. A year ago I could have had them out root and branch but now that circumstances have changed we will have to tread more carefully. Our friends in the secret services would welcome any excuse to have SOE co-opted and closed down. I think it would be best if you kept her on and make it seem she has been side-lined and ignored, but keep an eye on her. Hopefully they will have another go at killing her and we will get more evidence, if not even catch them at it,” he answered.

“So we just use her as live-bait on a loose line. A bit tough on her if they succeed” Colhoun replied.

“Well that is the easy option, if they kill her then it will lend some credence to what she has been reporting. Unfortunately if they are clever they will now leave her alone, and we get no evidence. Anyway she has survived this long so she must have some skills. I think Smythe might actually be onto something with her.”

“Smythe just does not like women who aren’t in the kitchen. Times are changing too quickly for him to keep up.” He received a cool glance from the chairman, who then asked “Have you read the reports on her performance at the Village training sessions. Most illuminating”

“Only in the top half of the classes I seem to remember, nothing outstanding”

“Yes quite, I have it on good authority that she was actively gaming the tests to make sure she did not stand out. Why was that do you think?”

“Will it be safe for us to let her continue? She could be the spy the others suspect her of being. Maybe turn her over to the Auditors and let them sort it out.” Colhoun replied pensively.

“No, that would not do. It would be best to keep this between us and low key, until we have all the information, then act. I will get the committee to release her to your supervision for further training pending further investigations. I will let you brief her as you feel fit and keep her occupied” the chairman said as he left for the door. Colhoun waited, thinking furiously, until the chairman and his bodyguards had finally cleared the street.

 

Helen sat fuming in a cold, but rather plush room in Dansey House. A rather plush cell, she thought, as she could not leave, having been put there overnight after the disastrous debriefing. The meeting had got rather fraught as some section heads took her account of Operation ArchAngel apart and held every aspect up for ridicule or suspicion. None of the commandoes had made it back to the boat. No reconnaissance of the site could be made by air due to the winter light and lack of range. The Norwegians were being reticent with their intelligence since SOE had blown up their fish oil processing plants. It came down to her word against their suspicions. The time it had taken for her to return was being portrayed as desertion, the fact she had returned at all was suspicious in itself of enemy support. The attack outside in the street was being downplayed as criminal elements trying to hijack the car for petrol. There was no evidence to support her but her own eye witness report and the loss of signal activity from the target site, but no evidence to damn her either, only innuendo. That was why she was in this room and not a cell she supposed. Colhoun came in carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.

“Don’t bite Helen I’ve come for a quiet chat off the record” he said before I could launch at him.

“Your leg appears to have healed quite well, Commander” I nodded acidly at him as he sat down and began to fiddle with the pot and cups.

“Yes, quite lucky that, it was not as bad as it first looked, just a bad sprain. I was as right as rain a few days later. No don’t look at me like that Helen. This gives us the opportunity for a bit of house clearance. As I understand what has just gone on in the committee room, either you are a spy and we are lucky to uncover you now, so that you can be safely disposed of, when the time is right of course. Or, you are telling the truth and one of our section heads is not all that he seems. Since I know it is not me, then I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, to see who you can rattle out of the woodwork. If you succeed there will be another medal and full reinstatement. Of course if you are tilting at shadows and nothing comes out of it then, well you are on your own and will be dealt with. How does that sound, Helen?” he said with a smile.

“Well if it’s the only offer, it will have to do.” I coldly glared at him. “Why another medal?” I queried.

“Oh, that. We gave you one, posthumously of course, there was quite a nice little ceremony as well if I remember correctly. Mmh, I suppose you had better sort that out when you get back the office.” He smirked at me.


	2. 1942 The First battle of El Alamain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dismissed and dispensed with, Helen ends up in more trouble in North Africa.

Summer 1942 First battle of El Alamain 

 

Helen was fuming outside another office in another corridor in Army HQ in Alexandria. It was hot and the air was clammy and fuggy with fear and worry. Everything was adding to her sense of frustration, futility and other words beginning with f. After her escape from Sweden, she was ignominiously posted to Delhi after losing the “pass the blame game” in London. Then being dumped in Port Said as her transport, thank Gods it was a ship, was rerouted to Egypt. Worse was finding that she was an inconvenience to be rapidly passed on to someone else or just to be ignored by the Army. After three days of this she had ended up in here in Army HQ. Her frustration was butting up against the air of panic as distracted officer passed her onto to officer after officer. Rumours, that Rommel was 200 miles away or maybe only 50, rattled around the corridors. She was stood by a group of empty desks and phones in a slightly wider corridor, the clerks had taken files outside for burning.

A door opened, and a red faced Colonel leant out and shouted “Smith, find me someone who can speak Indian on the double”.

“Captain Hunter, SOE, Colonel, I can speak Hindi and enough Urdu to get by. Can I be of assistance?” Helen replied “Smith and the rest appear to be outside burning all your files. Is there a problem, Colonel?” just to tweak him for keeping her waiting so long.

“Damn right there is a problem Captain, get in here” barked the Colonel

Helen tidied up her uniform as she strolled into his office, pulling her browning automatic into a more prominent position. Having a gun certainly distracted anyone from thinking about any other “talents” she might have, and already having a gun stopped most people from raising the issue of whether she should have a gun. Royal Proclamation or not the English were too polite to cause a fuss.

“Well Captain, I need you to take these orders up to the barracks outside town there is a regiment of Indian Colonial troops there. I want you to get them organised and ready to move in a hour, I will get trucks arriving to take them to a railway junction at El Alamain a few hours west up the coast road. They are to hold the junction until relieved.” At this point the Colonel finally looked up from writing his orders to look at Captain Hunter, snatched up his glasses and said, “But you’re a girl”

“Why thank you for pointing that out Sir. I had always suspected as much!” replied Helen with very little sarcasm, it had been a long day and her heart wasn’t in it.

“But,,, but you’re…”

“I am with SOE sir, it’s what we do” interrupted Helen “You said something about new orders, Sir?”

He rallied magnificently “Well Captain Hunter was it? Since my staff seemed to have buggered off, you will have to do. Take these orders up to the barracks and find someone to get them wogs on the road to protect that railway junction. Find a driver and a vehicle outside and get going.”

Helen saluted briskly and left him to his unthinking racism.

Outside was the kind of army chaos that Helen liked to take advantage of.

“Sergeant!” she bellowed and as if by magic one appeared. “I need a driver, and a vehicle with enough fuel, water and rations for 3 days. I’ll be going upcountry, what do you recommend?”

“Well Ma’am I will have a carrier, stores and driver ready in ten minutes, if you have the orders.” He replied.

Helen opened a pocket and flipped out the order slip. Just like a magic, it was more than enough to put the sergeant in her power. “Yes Ma’am” he saluted and loud organising occurred.

Twenty minutes later Helen was holding on as a carrier rattled on its tracks through the streets and towards the barracks.

 

“Well where is it then Corporal?” asked Helen as she surveyed the bleak dusty field with a single tent in it. “You are supposed to take me to the Indian barracks!”

“Soverdehgerl!” he said again in an impenetrable scouse accent, this time pointing at the solitary tent.

The tent flap opened and a face peaked out then withdrew.

Helen huffed and climbed down from the carrier, the heat was intense. She was caked in dust and sand was itching in places it should not be, and she was getting more and more irritated by what looked to be another prank to waste her time and get her out of the way. She briskly walked across the dusty stretch of ground between whitewashed stones which at least reassured her she was on a military site. Two strides from the tent and a young lieutenant gawkily unfolded out of the tent flap and saluted her.

“Ma’am! Lieutenant Park, 3rd Indian Volunteer Reserves, at your service.” He said while looking over her shoulder at the carrier only to see the driver light up a cigarette and start boiling up some tea.

“At ease Lieutenant, I have orders from Alexandria Command for your superior officer. Is he inside?” Helen replied as she gestured to the tent.

“Ah, eh no, not as such, eh as it were.” stuttered the by now extremely red faced Park as he returned his attention to her. Helen glared at him some more. “Captain Johnston was recalled to Alexandria three days ago following an incident with some brandy and a visiting Padre. Eh, I’m sure it was all a terrible misunderstanding and he will return soon. Can I help you eh Captain?” he blurted out.

“I have fresh orders for you and your men, but Lieutenant where are they?” she asked, as she gazed around the desolate field baked brown by the sun and studded with rows of exposed stones. Helen pulled the orders pack from inside her uniform jacket.

“Oh I have most of the men stood down, and downstairs, and just a squad patrolling the perimeter.” He said pointing in towards the tent.

Helen gave him an old fashioned look but intrigued stepped into the paltry shade of the tent, which contained two small desks and a stairwell down into the ground.

“We have been here about 6 months and the tents we had, they were just not up to the job, so one of the sergeants had the idea to dig trenches and cover them to make some better quarters. Quite a good idea really as it kept the lads busy and so we extended it out a bit.” said Park, as he led her down the steps into the noticeably cooler tunnel. It was about ten feet deep and covered with what looked like canvas from the now ex tents. There were gaps in the canvas every 20 feet or so to increase the light and ventilation. The trench stretched off into the distance in both directions, curious heads were now popping out of the walls and gazing at her.

“We were quite lucky, as this field must once have been a village or something, as we found quite a few mud brick cellars and such like, so the Sergeants sort of extended them and linked them all together. Once we cleared out the junk we now have a proper barracks for the men. Very cosy, we just have to keep an eye out for the scorpions. The little blighters keep trying to get in.” explained Park as he led her down a cool corridor and through a curtain into a spacious side room. An even younger looking second lieutenant leapt to attention from behind his desk as he saw her enter.

“Captain this is second Lieutenant Langton.” introduced Park. “Now you mentioned something about new orders?” a now more confident sounding Park asked. ”Corporal get some tea for the Captain and send for the Sergeant Major”

Helen handed over the package to Park as the corporal scuttled from behind his desk glaring at her chest and mumbling to himself, ran off down the corridor.

“I take it then you two are the only officers on site?” Helen queried.

“Oh yes” said Langton “we both joined up in Delhi and pretty sharpish we got posted to Egypt with the reserves. We have mainly been patrolling the streets and guarding the gates on night watch these last few months but the lads are very keen to have a crack at Rommel” he burbled on.

Park had gone quite pale as he read the orders in silence, but then was interrupted as the sergeant major and the rest of the senior NCO’s arrived.

Helen turned towards them to catch them staring at her chest before they bolted to attention. Where Park and Langton looked like sixth formers playing at soldiers Helen could tell that these men were more soldierly. Imposing scarred Sikhs to a man they bristled with a martial air, only let down as they kept trying to sneak a peek at her chest.

“Oh for pity’s sake they are not that big. How long have these guys been in the desert?” Helen thought

“Sergeant-Major, I have new orders, so have the men assembled and kitted out for action right away. We will need to relocate to a new base within the day. There should be trucks arriving upstairs so get some men to check them out and then start loading everyone up as soon as possible. We are going up the line to engage the enemy. You know what to do, so carry on and get the men organised. Check the carrier is still there so we can get rid of the pen pusher lady” chirruped Park in Hindi

A brief burst of Hindi from the Sergeant Major sent the other NCO’s off at a run leaving him behind.

“Well I’ve just about had enough of this Lieutenant, I am not a pen pusher, I am from SOE and have seen more action than you could imagine and you still have not got me a cup of tea!” bellowed Helen in Hindi, as she leaned over the desk to confront the now stunned Park, who now leaned back in his seat in shock. As she glared at him she watched as his gaze was slowly dragged away from her face to look at her chest. Before she could berate him some more, she finally noticed that his gaze was fixed on her pendent which had slipped out of her uniform and was now slowly pulsing in dim amber flashes on her chest.

“Don’t ask or I will have to kill you, lose lips sink ships and all that, Lieutenant. It seems to me that you will need my help in more ways than one, especially if that was your best effort at Hindi.” She slowly said to him as she straightened up and pushed the pendent back inside her shirt.

“Sergeant major get that corporal to get me that tea and then bring your roster lists, maps and store requisition sheets in. We have some planning to do.” bristled Helen.

“Yes honoured Priestess Captain” smiled the Sergeant major.

A busy hour later, Helen finished the draft plan with Park, Langton and Sergeant Major Singh

“And that lieutenants is why we are officers and we don’t go rushing off into the desert on the first truck to turn up.” said Helen. “Langton go with the sergeants and get organised on this list, sick and non-combatants are to remain here with the non-essential supplies and act as base guards. We will need to be ready to go in less than two hours. Start loading rations and water as soon as the trucks arrive and remember to spread them out so not all the water is in the truck that breaks down. Now Park explain to me again why we don’t have any weapons.”

“Eh Alexandria HQ insisted since we were only patrolling the town after dark that it would be prudent to limit the squads to 5 rifle rounds each. They were quite insistent that we would not need any more since we were so far behind the lines and it would prevent any unwarranted excitability from the troops and such like..” Park slowly wound down his ridiculous explanation as even he couldn’t face the blatant racism of it, especially with the looks Hunter and Sargent Major Singh gave him.

“Well it looks like we will have to go and get some then gentlemen, Bring those orders Park, and Sargent Major rustle up a squad or two and we will take the first two trucks. Let’s go and do some shopping.” ordered Helen as she headed out the office and along the corridor, trailing a bemused Park.

Once “upstairs” and out the tent she was glad to see the trucks had arrived and her carrier was still there. The Indian troops were milling about busily moving supplies into trucks as the sergeants harried them.

She could now feel her pendent, as it greedily fed on the air of intention and excitement around her. It had not been this attentive since that terrible night in Norway, a lifetime and many months ago. She ignored the fact that the nearest troops had tried to prostrate themselves before her in prayer until booted back to work by the sergeants. Helen walked up-to the carrier and startled the corporal from his tea drinking and letter writing.

“Wozzamarragerl!” he spluttered.

Helen ignored this since she did not understand it and ordered him to get ready and to take them to the HQ depot.

“Yeralrightalrightden, keepyerhairon!” he muttered to himself as he started the carrier up.

“Priestess Captain, all is ready.” said Sergeant Singh quietly from behind her. “Is your driver from Poland?” he queried.

“No I don’t think so. He may be from England I think, but if you speak slowly enough he seems to understand you” replied Helen.

“How amazing England must be to have so many languages. Maybe one day, I will go there.” murmured Singh.

“Well let’s make a move, Sergeant you follow in the trucks, Lieutenant Park if you don’t mind, with me in the carrier.

With a clatter of tracks and trucks their little convoy sped off into the dust and heat, back towards Alexandria.

 

Helen left Park and Singh at the weapons shed and strolled across to what looked like the personnel supplies. If she was going to steamroller Park into letting her go up the line with them she would need to make some preparations. Trousers, boots, toilet paper, some blankets and some spare Nuffields just in case, were at the top of her list. She even managed to charm a spare kit bag for it all as well, which she placed back in the carrier with the rest of her kit. There was no sign of Park and the Sergeant Major. The squad and her driver were sat looking glumly about round the back of one truck brewing up more tea. Her driver flicked his head towards the imposing doors of the weapons shed. Helen strode in to see that army bureaucracy had stopped their plan in its tracks. The demon behind the counter was stood arms crossed, steadfastly ignoring Parks as he spluttered himself purple in the face about orders which he waved at the quartermaster’s clerk. Singh looked as if he was about to reach over the counter and wrench the clerks head right off.

Helen plucked the orders from Park’s hand and placed them on the counter,

“These are the direct and legal orders from HQ ordering “us” to the lines with all men and equipment and in due speed” she tapped the orders on the counter to get his attention on them, as she slipped her warrant card from her pocket. As his gaze travelled back up to her with a smug smile she opened the warrant full in his face and continued “This is my legal authority to compel you to assist me in the furtherance of my legal duties, and supply the men with the weapons they require.” Helen was slightly impressed that the clerk did not immediately cave in as the warrant grabbed his brain and fought with the bureaucracy demons in him. “I will of course sign all the requisition dockets for them.” this pushed him over the edge and with a sigh a clipboard was produced which she initialled.

“Well sergeant we need guns, lots and lots of machine guns.”

 

Several hours of frenetic activity got Helen and her convoy to a small railway junction along the coast road a few hours from Alexandria. The excitement of organising and making things happen had kept Helen exhilarated enough that she could put to one side the fact that much of an army was heading away from where she was going to. To keep “her” troops busy she had them servicing as many weapons as they could break out of the crates. She was busy moving up and down the convoy’s line in the carrier, cajoling troops, keeping them on the correct route at deserted junctions and once pulling a truck from a ditch with the carrier. It was a disappointment to arrive at the railway junction, a deserted forsaken place on a flat plain, overlooking the coast road a mile away. The line looped down from behind some dunes and between a cliff, then passed by some sidings and a shed that called itself a railway station and then arrowed down the coast towards Alexandria.

“Well, Lieutenant we are here, now how do you and the Sergeant Major propose we defend this dump. It appears to be just another patch of desert.” Helen spoke to Park.

“Well the options are obvious, I suppose we have to assume what Jerry will bring to bear. I propose we set up some linked trenches that cover the main lines of approach to the station, some mortars and heavy machine guns on those higher dunes over there and that we take over the station as a central position, it should have some electricity for the radios. I would set demolition charges on the tracks and points to disrupt the tracks just in case we have to withdraw. The trucks I will position behind the station in that gully so some of us will be able to retreat down to the coast road if it gets a bit too hairy. Of course some artillery or anti-tank would be useful but beggars can’t be choosers, and all that” Park wound down as the implications startled to settle in, and the thought that most of his command including him were not going to make it through the next few days loomed in front of him.

“Well that’s a good start, Park, why don’t you get the Sargent Major to sort out the dispositions and you and Langton set up the HQ in the station and start thinking about how you would attack this place and how to stop yourself” Helen interrupted him with a glance and a nod at Sergeant Major Singh “I will take the carrier back down to the road and see what I can rustle up for you”.

3 hours later a regiment of artillery, 25pdrs, rolled up in their trucks and were dispersed on the rise behind the station.

The Indian troops were still digging trenches as the light started to fail, and Helen had not returned. Park had men dispersing as much water, food and ammunition as could be done while the rest slogged away with shovels. Then the rattle of tracks alerted him to a spreading cloud of dust near the coast road. “Damn, just as things are going well the damn Germans have to turn up”, he thought.

The cloud of dust and noise reached the junction at the coast road and turned towards them. The noise could only be tanks thought Park as he watched the more sensible soldiers dive into the trenches they had been digging while the rest turned to watch the approaching dust. The sergeants and NCO’s ran up and down the lines galvanising the men with shouts and kicks to get them preparing a last minute defence. Then popping out of the dust sprang the carrier with Helen perched on top waving a flag at him. The rattle of tracks increased, as behind her a line of a dozen or so of the largest tanks Parks had ever seen clattered towards the station. They bristled with guns and looked very imposing as they shuddered to a halt near the station. He watched as Helen dismounted the carrier and collected a few of the tankers and then made her way towards him.

“Ah there you are Parks, you mentioned you wanted some anti-tank, will these do instead?” Helen smirked at him.

 

Later that night Helen sat alone for a few minutes of peace and quiet in a hole in the ground, trying to get her thoughts together. The other officers had got together and produced what looked like a workable plan to defend the station. Trenches were dug and extended for the infantry. The Grant tanks she had found were dug in and Park had sacrificed most of the fuel in the reserve trucks to salvage another four that had run out of fuel on the road. The artillery was set up and observers were posted into the desert, communications with Alexandria were secured. So before Park could remember to try and send her back to Alexandria in the carrier, she had driven off to the southern end of their defensive position do her more traditional duty. Although she was an officer and a stranger to them, many of the men knew or remembered what her pendent represented. She then spent several hours going through the trenches, casting fortunes for favoured children, giving blessings to families far away, curing minor ailments, giving them the chance to talk of worries or fears, telling tales and leading songs, giving hope that they would survive to see their homes again. Her pendent glowed an amber light as it sipped the emotional energy from frightened troops and stored up the newness of today’s events. Energy that Helen might have to draw on later if the worst happened.

The darkness was illuminated only by the stars and the dull light of her driver’s paraffin stove as he brewed up another round of tea, the cold was now getting to her so she got out the hole and found him and his carrier crouched in an empty tank emplacement the troops had dug.

“Ereyeraregirlgetdisdownyerlike.” He muttered at her. She took the proffered cup hoping he meant her to drink the tea. She still had no idea what he was saying.

“Demgermanswillbeeresoon” he muttered again. This time Helen could hear the distant sound of engines, as the darkness gave way to the dawn.

 

She was now sat in another hole, it might have been the same one as last night. She had lost track of how many she had hidden in. The heat and dust had sapped her energy and she was eating whatever godawful stuff in a tin her driver gave her and drank more of his awful tea, and blessed his dear heart at the feast, however did he manage it? The first attack had come at dawn as the German infantry were ambushed by her troops and forced to pull back. Less than an hour later they tried again but this time with artillery. They were repulsed again but this time there were a lot more dead and wounded. She was in the first aid post when the worst of the slaughter began. The artillery exchange seemed immense on both sides. Two of the defending tanks were already burning and smoke stretched across the desert battlefield.

On the third attack panzers appeared from the coast road and the desert to attack from both sides. The tanks duelled at ever closing range as German troops forced their way forwards and tried to assault the trenches. The constant roar of mechanised death could not deaden the sound of screaming from men on all sides. The panzers were stopped and forced back but the one of the outer most trenches had to be retaken from the German infantry by an improvised counter attack. The death toll and wounded increased ever higher. Her pendent now glowed constantly as it absorbed the emotional turmoil around her and fed on the raw experiences in the atmosphere.

She found Lieutenant Park later that afternoon in what was left of the station house, just as he finished sending messages back to Alexandra command.

“Ah Captain, you are still here I thought you had gone back to base. HQ say to hold here as reinforcements should arrive tonight or by dawn. Things look a bit sticky as the Sergeants report we have lost about a third of the men dead or wounded, Langton died in the last attack, we are down to two tanks and the artillery are down to their last few salvo’s and then they will pull out. I am afraid it does not look too good.” He petered out with a choking cough. He looked as shell shocked as she felt.

“Well Park I think it is time I helped out with some tricks of my own. The Germans won’t attack until they have refuelled and armed their tanks so that should be just before dusk. I think we might have time for a bit of reconnaissance. I will take some men forward and if we see the German position we can lay down a barrage onto their armour and fuel dump. You will have to hold here but get a plan ready with the sergeants for when you have to pull out.” She told him, and left to have another look around to see if any alternatives presented themselves to her. Anything but the dreadful horror she had already envisioned. An hour later she was down to one plan but only told Park half of it. To wait for her signal flares and then lay down the artillery barrage at her position then use the tanks for cover and retreat if the Germans then attacked the trenches. She already had got the sergeants to move the dead and seriously wounded to the outermost trench and pull the men back closer to defend the station. While in the trench he used the disruption to recharge her pendent with the last of the life energy from the worst of the wounded as she offered prayers and songs for them. That only left the worst part of her plan still to do. She found her driver and his carrier and tried to get him to show her how to control it.

“Behavegirl. Yernotgettingmecar. Justgerrondebackandoyerstuff,” he growled at her as he nodded at the rear seat.

“Okay, but if you stay, you have to stay in the carrier, whatever happens don’t get out. It would not go well.” I told him as he stubbornly settled into the driver’s seat and pulled his helmet on tighter. He definitely paled as I pulled out my pendent, a knife and started to chant. I walked slowly around the carrier and smeared blood from my thumb onto the corners and sketched some symbols onto the sides. I climbed in and intensified my chants so that now their sound patterns started to interfere and build into the pattern I had hoped I would never need again. The pendent glowed brightly and I could feel the power flowing from it into the multidimensional standing wave I was building around the carrier. At a kick and a nod he started the carrier up and it trundled slowly forward into the dusk and past the final trench. The smell of all the dead bodies and the moans of the almost dead slowly faded as the power steadied in the wave and I changed my chant to what I now knew to be what the specialists at the Laundry called Enochian. The gloom deepened around the carrier as it slowly cleared the last of the trenches and stood facing west. The chanting was getting rough on my throat but drawing more power from the pendent I opened the way for the feeders in the night. They flowed down the song-lines I had set up and into the trenches where they quickly found the dead and dying and became as one. Mercifully for me the moans of the wounded quickly ended but were replaced by the psychic shrieks of hunger and anger as I forcibly bound the feeders into the husks of the now dead soldiers Indian, British and German alike. The flickers of green light as they spread down the trenches behind me were my only guide to how terribly well it was working.

The flickering red sparks were a puzzle but my driver realised we were being shot at and put the carrier into gear and started trundling forwards. The German attack had begun. I dragged my concentration back to my chanting and forced the feeders to follow. Their hunger for more was held in check by their fear of the presence in my pendent. They followed me over the frigid black sands of a totally different plane as the carrier led them on to the desert to meet the attacking force. The carrier, though warded from the feeders and shielded from human view, was not immune to stray fire and shrapnel rattled the sides. The force of my will dragged the feeders over the last rise on a distant desert until they caught sight of the warm bodies rushing towards them on this desert. The incoming fire was heavy and accurate but ineffectual as you can only be killed once and the feeders propelled the battered flesh past my carrier and rushed into the advancing Germans. As more bodies now succumbed to the feeders I had to increase my efforts in the chants to propel them ever forwards and away from the British lines, the power flowed easily from the pendent and my guest watched on amused at my games with the lesser spirits. The horror around me was immense as the feeders fed on my enemy, infantry, tankers, gunners it made no difference. The Germans were no longer firing at the British trenches but had now taken to firing amongst themselves as the feeders moved amongst them. It did them no good. The shrieks and screams of the dying echoed around me as my anger and resentment rose. How dare they attack me and mine, how dare they treat me this way, who were those idiots in London who wanted me put safely out of the way and ignored. Sparks of amber light were now rushing out and striking at the feeders goading them as their fear of me spread through the battlefield the living and the dead all broke in to a run towards the German positions. Flashes of energy and sparks of gunfire flickered all around. They made little impact on me as I lost myself in the flows of power and anger in keeping the chant going and compelling the feeders around me in their slaughter. The power flow inflamed every part of my body as my fears and resentments and anger burnt their way out of my psyche. I felt more and more wonderful and its cause less worrisome as the darkness fell completely around me, the carrier trundled on at walking speed, the eye of a storm of death and destruction. The carrier tipped sharply forward as it drove into a gully and threw me over the side. It crashed in to the other side of the gully and stalled. My driver was dead. I stood unsteadily up, the shrieking in my mind quietened until all I could hear was the distant crackle of gunfire and more engines close by. I groggily climbed up the other side of the gully and stood unsteadily looking down over a lorry park of some sort. My feeders were no longer present. The crash must have broken the spell and compulsion and sent them back. The vivid taste of horror and power swirled around inside me; I vaguely remember something I had to do. There were trucks in front of me, shouldn’t they be back with Park at the station? Trucks? I fumbled for the flare gun tucked into my belt. It felt very heavy, why do I need this again? The flare made a very pretty red streak into the air as I fell backwards into the gully. It lit with a flash and very slowly sank back to the ground. When the artillery barrage shattered the air and bounced me around the gulley I passed out.

Pain, pain filled me and I struggled up into the brightness. Sand and pebbles sluiced off me as I sat up. The dazzling light hurt, my left side hurt like hell, again. I was gasping for a drink, where was my driver with the tea? Even the crackling and whispers I could hear were hurting. The desert stopped spinning long enough for me to focus on the broken remains of my driver and his carrier. The breeze shifted slightly and the stench triggered memories. I vomited all over my lap. I took a few minutes to ineffectually rub the vomit off with sand. I managed to get to my knees, I could see a water bottle hanging from the wrecked carrier. If I could get my legs to work I could reach it. It was only a million miles away. Three staggered steps later and the water was warm but it would do. Holding grimly on to the side of the carrier, I slowly forced the world to stop spinning around me. A few more deep breaths and I might just be able to walk out of here. I turned around and looking around the gully, I found the source of the whispering in my ears.

A small lorry loaded with more machine guns than should be allowed was parked at the edge of the gully above me. A group of the most piratical looking yobs were perched on it but what dragged my attention kicking and screaming towards him was the nattily, tropically suited Mr Angleton who sat in the front passenger seat.

“Well Helen” the whispering continued as he smiled at me “You have been busy!”

“Ahh Mr Angleton”, I croaked out as my legs gave way and I slumped slowly down the carrier to the ground. “I appear to have killed some people” I sobbed as tears flowed down my face. I looked up and he was stood in front of me. With the tip of his umbrella he poked aside the dust to reveal my pendent slowly glowing amber as it hung across my tunic.

“Yes Helen, a lot of people. Most of them now more dead than would normally be the case.” He mused quietly. “I think it would be best if you were to come home with me, and then we can let the Army sort out the rest of the killing on their own.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helen recovers in England and gets a new assignment.

 

Chapter 3 London and points redacted 1942

 

The late summer sun shone brightly through the blinds, casting stripes of light and shadow across the warm and slightly stuffy room, although Britain was never warm enough for her these days. Helen watched the dazzle ship pattern slowly edge across the walls from her reclined position on the bed. She was bored but too bone tired to do anything about it; she suspected the medication she was on was playing its part in that. It had been over a week since her last screaming nightmares and the burly attendants, though still watchful, now had a more relaxed edge. She might get off the bed soon and try sitting in the chair, or she might wait until they called for tea. Anyway that was something to think about later. The sound of the BBC floated across the air as she realised her door had opened and closed, a figure shuffled in and sat down in her only chair and twitched away.

“Hiya, ‘ave you got any ciggies? It’s just that I’ve run out and the nurses are being a bit stroppy about it. I find they calm me down”.

Helen raised herself up on the bed to get a good look at her visitor, a slight, dark haired young man in loose pyjamas with a baggy, tartan, dressing gown wrapped haphazardly around him.

“No sorry, they are not my usual sort of vice. My name is Helen and you are?”

“Oh yes, sorry, my name is Alan. I’m here for a bit of a rest, and I’m told I’ve been thinking too much again, so I have been sent here for a bit of a rest. Though how anyone can be tired from thinking is beyond me, thinking is what I do best. Why are you here? Are you here for a bit of a rest?” he asked.

“Yes, a bit of a rest. I got carried away at work, so they brought me here a while ago. It seems, I was killing Germans in the wrong way.” I replied.

“Well that’s a bit daft, everyone else seems to be trying to kill Germans and they are not here. Are you sure that’s why you are here? I’m here for a bit of a rest. I like to think about algorithms, that’s maths and stuff to you.”

“Algorithm, from Al Kwarismi the medieval Islamic scholar on which most of western mathematics rests its philosophical basis” I interrupted making a point by habit now.

Alan seemed taken aback, twitching at the cuffs and hem of his dressing gown until his train of thought returned on a loop line.

“Wonderful, are you a Maths scholar?”

“No, I just dabble a bit here and there. Accountancy was part of the family business but my main interest was in languages. I assume you are the Math scholar.” I replied watching him, my pendent now taking an interest.

“Oh yes, Maths is my passion. Maths is much easier to understand than people you know. In fact it is so easy I am trying to get machines to do it!”

“Most people would say Maths is hard to learn but people are easier, if even predictable” Helen replied watching him twitch with interest now.

“Oh, well they would be wrong then!” Alan giggled back

“Don’t we already have adding machines; I remember using some in India? Are you..”

“No, no not arithmetic machines but proper mathematics with algorithms and logic and predictions. I am even planning some that might even think for themselves.” He broke off as the door opened and the BBC floated in again.

“Now then Mr Alan, you should not be bothering the nice Captain Lady with your number blather. Let’s take you back to your bed and then you can have a rest till tomorrow” said a gruff no nonsense voice from the burly attendant.

Helen noticed the brief spasm and tremble as Alan shrank into himself at the sound of the voice.

“Yes, yes of course, till tomorrow Helen. Maybe tomorrow you will have some cigarettes” he said as he shuffled to the door. The attendant carefully watched him leave then coldly asked Helen “Is there anything you need Captain?” then receiving no answer he left.

I think it is time for me to get myself out of here, maybe one more rest then I will get it all sorted out. I slowly slumped back against the bed pillows. The sun and shadows moved across the wall, marking out another day in patterns of light and shade.

 

A meeting room, clogged with fumes from the men smoking and from a poorly drawing fire, overflowing with unhappy personnel; although none were as unhappy as the seated boffin having to give the report.

“To summarise, you can give no explanation for the reports about Captain Hunter and the artefact she carries” declared the Chairman with a scornful look at the squirming boffin.

“That would be a most unfair, Mr Chairman. The report clearly outlines suggested, plausible theories as to what the artefact is not. The inability of the staff at St Hilda’s to remove the item for more intensive study has limited somewhat the scope of the tests my section can run on the artefact,…”

“I must stress that my staff at St Hilda’s have tried every conceivable method to secure the artefact, but even under sedation they have been met with implacable force. In fact the more sedated Captain Hunter is then the more violent have been the responses to our attempts at removing the object. Several staff have already suffered injuries in this matter,” interrupted another suit from behind the long table.

“So your report suggests that the artefact Captain Hunter carries ranges from either a worthless piece of dress jewellery, or a focus point for her own natural talents, to a receptacle or relic of unknown metaphysical powers beyond our knowledge. Not very illuminating for all the time and effort you have spent. The eyewitness reports from Egypt that we supressed gave me more information than that.” growled the Chairman as he dropped the folder onto the table with disdain. An outbreak of muttered squabbling ensued as rival departments tried to give opinions, shift, or cast the blame or just muddy the waters.

A cough from the end of the table caused the Chairman to call a halt to the acrimony and ask “Yes Commander Colhoun, you have something to add?”

“Ah, yes. Just a suggestion really, since I had spent some time with Hunter before the incident in Egypt, I found her to be very competent and loyal to this organisation. So maybe if we wake her up and just ask her about it, we may get somewhere” he petered out as the looks of disdain from the senior staff affected him.

“So your suggestion is we just ask her?” guffawed Smythe from around his pipe.

“Are there any other suggestions?” asked the Chairman. The muted silence was all the answer he needed. “Then it is settled, Colhoun arrange a time to interview Captain Hunter by the end of the week and have her brought to the next meeting”, he declared.

 

 

I woke with a start, something was different. There was an ache in my left arm, and for the first time since arriving here I felt uncomfortable and restless. The bedding was too constricting so I gave the blankets a kick and shuffled upright. I glared around the small room and found Colhoun sat in my chair reading the paper. He looked very official in his Navy uniform

“Ah Helen you are awake, good we have things to discuss” he said as he folded the paper up.

“What is going on, why are you here?” I blurted out.

“Well Helen we can’t have you lying in bed all day “there is a war on don’cha know”, so up you get, I’ve brought you a uniform, there are things to say and do. So hop to it” he said as he put a package on the end of the bed “I’ll go and sort out the paperwork, you get dressed” and then he left.

I glared at the door in anger until I realised that I was angry, for the first time since I arrived here. The medication must be wearing off, interesting. Well the only way out was through the door, so time to get out.

A quick wash from the water basin stiffened up my wobbly muscles. The scars were fading but much more slowly than Norway, there was only so much I could do with the repeatedly abused flesh. I put on the uniform which fit surprisingly well, Colhoun’s reputation as a Ladies man seems to have given him some useful skills. The uniform showed I was still a Captain and had even gained another medal ribbon, maybe one day I would actually be there to get a medal in person, but I appeared to have lost a side arm holster. Well only to be expected I suppose. A last check to straighten my cap, a deep breath and it was out the door. The corridor was lightly populated with inmates shuffling about and the backs of attendants quickly heading away from me, curious. “Music while we work” quietly wafted from the speaker at the end of the corridor. The corridor was longer than it first appeared and as I passed over the patterned linoleum I started to notice the wards and sigils in the floor and doors and even in the patterning of the Ministry posters on the walls. What kind of hospital was this anyway? I saw Colhoun at the end, leaning closer than was necessary to the nurse at the desk. It was ten yards to the doors and tempting though it was to ignore Colhoun and keep going out, I still did not know where I was and what was to happen next. Then the door opened and in stepped Perks, she smiled and saluted smartly “Ma’am”,

“Ah, Sargeant you are a sight for sore eyes, now I know I am in safe hands,” I saluted back with a wink. “Commander Colhoun if you are ready then we should leave.” I suggested. With a start and a reflex smile he gathered the file from the nurse’s desk and led the way through the door.

It was a long drive back to London, thankfully Perks was driving and Colhoun seemed in no hurry to talk to me. The signposts still had not been put back up so I was no clearer about where the “hospital” was located and the chat was minimal. Strangely enough this got me to thinking that if Colhoun meant me ill, he had made a mistake. My experiences in the last year had left me perfectly able if not yet willing to kill him and if not, then I could probably rely on Perks to shoot him in the head, so I relaxed and enjoyed the scenery.

I was returned to quarters in Dansey House. Secure accommodation in the attic rooms until my interview with the board.

After two days of “chats” Colhoun had satisfied himself that I was just a naturally talented practitioner who had got lucky. The real test would be with the committee and the Chairman who I supposed must have more talent and wits about him than Colhoun. While waiting I mapped out several possible futures based on likely progress tomorrow and decided where I really wanted to be.

I was led downstairs by the bulky RSM I had met on my first day in Dansey House, and asked to sit in the same chair as before; the only difference now was I only had to wait twenty minutes. Progress of a sort I thought.

The committee room was full of the mix of suits and uniforms I expected, though the only difference being a wren I did not recognise was taking the minutes.

The questioning started quickly and circled around how I had been trained and the extent of my powers, I answered truthfully just not the whole of the truth and areas that should have been examined more closely were ignored. I guided the questions to safer areas by my subtle prevarications until it came to the finale.

“Now Captain, the issue only remains as to the nature of the artefact that you wear, can you describe its powers?”

“Powers? Professor Smythe, it is only a piece of dress jewellery that was given to me by my grandmother. It has sentimental “power” which is why I always wear it. I did get permission from my original CO, when I joined up in 40, to wear it. Would you like to see it?” I offered.

There was a muttered response and a leaning in from the men around the table as I theatrically rummaged in my shirt. I held the pendent out on its chain. The stone swung slowly back and forth as it was stared at, I glanced around the table as I allowed my passenger a brief glimpse of the committee, low flashes and sparks glittered in the jewel. The Chairman and three others quickly twitched backwards as the rest focused on the jewellery.

“Would anyone like to take it from me?” I pleasantly asked, holding it towards them.

“That will be enough theatrics for now Captain Hunter; we will conclude this discussion and let you know of our deliberations in due course. Pending that decision you are to be returned to service at the Laundry under Commander Colhoun’s supervision from tomorrow at 0800. Please wait outside until the RSM can return you to your quarters” interrupted the Chairman.

“Well gentlemen, I see no reason to disagree with Commander Colhoun’s report on Captain Hunter. We can I think return her to service once a period of supervision has elapsed. Time to recess for an early lunch I think.”

With a tapping of papers and a jovial mood the meeting dispersed.

 

The Chairman gave the nod to two others and a meeting was held in a smaller room on a different floor 20 minutes later. There was no one to take minutes this time

“Well that was most enlightening I must say” said the Chairman to the other two Auditors. “She certainly has Colhoun fooled though I am surprised no else noticed. I think we should put her to the question today. That should give us time to make any necessary arrangements”

“We will definitely need to probe in depth what that pendent is and the range of power that Hunter has, and how she got them. Training from a kindly old grandmother does not seem to be the case here.”

After a moment’s pause the other auditor spoke. “It may be more serious than that, I fear, while the jewel flickered I got the impression that Hunter was not the only one occupying her chair. Do you think we have another teapot?” he asked.

“What? One that walked in off the streets, from the army! After all the effort we went to in order to get the first one, are you joking?”

“I never joke, as you know. This is too serious.”

“Yet also an opportunity,” interrupted the Chairman, “I think one that we may have to risk. Let’s plan out what we will do and make some contingencies. I think we will re-interview Hunter after luncheon”.

 

Several hours later, in a quiet clubbish room, three figures in suits sat in well upholstered, brown leather chairs with tea and china service.

“Well gentleman what do you think? That was instructive. Certainly something new and interesting has landed in our laps.” The Chairman speculated with a tinkle of silver spoon on china.

“My Gods! The implications of it all. The suggestion, that there is a way past the Krantzberg syndrome! Think how that would impact on the use of our powers. Not to be worried about ending up drooling into your tea because you used your skills. For that to come from India, of all places. We will have to make some urgent inquiries in Delhi. We have an office there don’t we? Surely they can do something useful on this? That suggestion alone is worth following up, the idea that we could survive till old age and still use our powers. That must be our priority here, to get that secret and to think we almost threw her away!” exclaimed an Auditor in an uncharacteristic emotional state.

“I am not sure I entirely buy the idea that there has been, for centuries, an organisation of magical Indian women wandering about, and we only just hear about it now and that is by accident. I thought her analogy was a bit too glib “Djinn are like school boys discovering an ant’s nest. Some want to turn it over and smash it, but some just want to watch what the ants do, to be part of the newness of it and to understand it all,” replied the second Auditor

“I actually liked that bit, made me remember some of the fellows at school” smiled the Chairman around his tea cup.

“What surprises me is the fact she still thinks she is human. As far as I could make out the gem is just theatrics with maybe a secondary role as an energy store. She/it thinks of it as more of a totem or receptacle for her djinn or passenger or parasite would that be your thinking? I could detect very little difference between her alone and with the entity.”

“Maybe the illusion of independence is what keeps the human host sane or sane-ish while the power gets what it wants, whatever that is.”

“The thought, that she is human and alien and both all at the same time, is intriguing, I must say. I am reminded of those eggheads in the twenties who went on about matter being waves and waves were particles it just depended on how you look at it.”

“Well that is just mystical mumbo jumbo and we as scientist should know better” snorted an Auditor.

“I think the priorities here have to be; what more we can we find out from India, what use we can put Hunter to, and how can we neutralise her if she becomes a threat,” the Chairman said interrupting the silence and moving the meeting to a conclusion.

“Well whatever she is, we at least have a bit more leverage this time than we had over the Teapot. She at least thinks she is human and has a family we can use as a pressure point if it comes to it.”

“Well, all that remains to do is a case file and a code name. Anyone have a suggestion?”

“I have a few if I may..”

 

It was two days later, and another meeting but in a much more Spartan room.

“Seriously you want to call me Agent Darjeeling! Just because I was born in India! Seriously someone needs to speak to these people about secrecy and that code names should have nothing to do with the subject. Well I suppose it could have been worse,” I exclaimed with a glare at the Chairman

“Quite, well this is what we want you to do…

A month later, I was again standing to attention in front of a committee in Dansey House. Some of the suits and uniforms seated behind the long table still had not mastered their skill at hiding their glee (shadenfreude?) at my situation. Nor had they noticed my skill at listening through the door.

“Well acting Captain Hunter, the committee have considered your request for a return to active service and feel that now is not the right time to action that proposal. We however have a project in mind that will make use of you. The proposal from Commander Colhoun, for the centralisation of artefacts and records into one archive, is very interesting and having no fundamental objections we are willing to give this project the go ahead and place you in a trial position of responsibility. The repositories outlined in his proposal will have to be limited to the one deep underground station though, and initial staffing for the set up and installation will have to be limited to a dozen vetted staff, there is a war on after all, is there not gentleman? You will have to have “Project Oook!” is it called, set up and running by the end of the year though,” intoned the Chairman.

“Three months should be more than enough time to shift a few file boxes” interrupted Smythe with a guffaw.

“Quite, in that case acting Captain Hunter welcome to your new post and good luck. Dismissed” ended the Chairman.

“Now gentlemen we can turn to this strange request from our counterparts in the OSS…” he started as Helen left the room.

I made sure that I kept a tight control over my emotions until I had left Dansey House well behind. Now that I had been side-lined into dead end bureaucratic posting, I now had access, and the all the necessary permissions and security clearances, to go rummaging through every dirty secret the Laundry had thought to keep hidden.

 

tbc

 

 


	4. After action report, redacted, India

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Top secret news from India.

Delhi , India 1942.

Restricted file for attention of staff cleared for Case Chapatti Blue only

Lethal defences have been authorised for the protection of this file.

If you are not certified Double Black or above, close this folder, call security and remain where you are.

 

Full details of operation and after action reports are only available to senior auditor staff.

Disclosure of any details from this file to Subject Darjeeling will be met with extremely prejudicial force.

Before turning the page you must sign with sanguinary ink your code name and service number, failure to do so will result in incapacitating injury.

 

Code name

| 

Service number

| 

Date  
  
---|---|---  
  
Gentle

| 

012010

| 

25/08/42  
  
Cassandra

| 

   045 379

| 

27/08/42  
  
Teapot

| 

110110110

| 

30/09/43  
  
Agamemnon

| 

034078

| 

   25/01/45  
  
Teapot

| 

110110110

| 

03/02/45  
  
 

| 

 

| 

   
  
 

| 

 

| 

   
  
 

| 

 

| 

   
  
 

 

Redacted and Abridged after action report 11/07/42

 

Following orders received, the reconnaissance of village (redacted, now to be referred to as Chapatti) was undertaken by elements of 13th Nepali Regiment seconded to SOE, Delhi.

Concerns that the Japanese invasion of Burma would soon encroach upon Eastern India, orders were prepared to evacuate the site Chapatti.

Initial contact with village elders proved unhelpful and villagers were reluctant to accept resettlement.

Prolonged protests over the subsequent days led to decision for enforced evacuation of civilian population of the village and preparation of measures to prevent capture of site by Imperial Japanese Forces should they break through in Burma.

Escalating protests unfortunately led to incidences of violence. The threat of metaphysical weapons being deployed against troops led to decision to use coercive force to ensure acquiescence of civilian population to lawful evacuation orders.

The preparation of the village for destruction provoked a militant response from a section of the populace and unfortunately live fire was initiated by troops and casualties were sustained amongst the civilian population. The remaining villagers withdrew to a complex of caves and ruins outside the village to continue their insurrection.

Troops were used to evacuate them from the ruins. Casualties unfortunately were heavy but troops managed to contain the remaining villagers and their ring leaders into a cave complex at the rear of the site.

The village was then prepared for demolition and as per standing orders and was levelled on date (redacted).

This provoked the remaining militants in their unlawful protest and before an escalation to the use of metaphysical weaponry could be deployed against the surviving troops the cave complex entrance was rendered inoperative with demolition charges.

The few prisoners were redeployed to separate military prisons in south and west India.

The remnants of 13th Nepali Rifle regiment were disbanded and dispersed to front line regiments in Burma.

In view of the threat of these civilian assets and site Chapatti falling into Imperial Japanese Forces control, all actions taken by officers and men at Chappatti on (redacted) are condoned and no further investigations into this incident will be permitted, by order of Imperial High Command, Delhi.


	5. Moscow bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further adventures in Russia.

 1943 exploits into Moscow?

Call to Russia by selection/invitation as part SOE mission to Soviets, but it’s a trap!

Chase confusion assassination across western Russia escape to Iran and the long way home.


	6. Crisis in Croydon and Fortress Europe.

1944  
War, Croydon and assault on fortress Europe.

A work in progress


	7. Gotterdammerung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last days of the war and Helen and Angleton team up again.

April to May 1945

Götterdamerung

The cold drizzle and sporadic mists were not helping visibility across the Lȕneberger moorland, but she thought they would be handy later. The damp was beginning to seep into her knees and elbows as she crouched in a ditch just outside the copse of small trees. The hotchpotch of uniform and specialist gear she wore would have made it difficult to identify her unit, which was an advantage. Her scarred and hard bitten appearance, the dark-eyed glare she gave, was enough to deter anyone who even thought of asking. Through the binoculars, Helen could just make out a non-descript farmhouse with its surprisingly secure and robust looking storage barns 50 yards behind. The army truck parked outside the barns would have been enough reason to investigate even without the sporadic flashes of sickening occult power she could sense coming from the site.

“Well, Sergeant this looks like one of mine. I will need any officers or civilians alive, the rest you can take care of.” Helen murmured to the soldiers around her. They withdrew back into the trees to plan the assault while Helen continued to watch and sense the weakening flares of power come from the sheds.

 

After the slaughter in Normandy and the break out into France it became apparent to Section Q of SOE that they would need experienced personnel on the ground to seize sensitive and occult artefacts, files and personnel before they could be destroyed or taken by your Allies. So SOE managed to co-opt their way into T-Force who were busy breaking and entering their way across France and the Low Countries as the German army fled east. The number of sites of special scientific interest increased dramatically as they crossed into Germany itself. More, and experienced, personnel were desperately needed and so the Laundry was stripped of all trained staff and they were sent via Antwerp to the front lines or beyond. So Helen had found herself with an armoured car, some jeeps and a couple of lorries to search out the secrets of the Ahnenerbe SS before they could be destroyed. Now six months later Helen was here with her battle hardened troop in the hinterland between the lines, as to the North West the British 8 Corp prepared its assault on Hamburg.

The approach to the farm was slow and cautious. The assault was brutal and decisive. The two teenage guards and the driver were dead; the officer was sprawled in a bunk near the stove in a front corner of the warehouse. Helen entered into the gloom when the Sergeant called an all clear. She strode over towards the slumped, black clad figure on the bed, the Browning 45 on her hip now more for show as she had more certain and deadly methods only a whisper away.

The shaking figure on the bed struggled to sit up as she swept her senses over him. Another SS wunderkind shivering towards an early death as the side effects of his powers palsied his body and turned his brain to mush.

“Ach, the kleine Hexe, it is you. I knew one day we would meet again. It is fitting it is now.” The figure gasped at Helen. “Though I wish our positions were reversed” he added as he spasmed under the force of Helen’s anger.

I glared at him and recognition came slowly, “You’re Braun, well you won’t be murdering any more of my men. I suppose Hahnsberg is around here somewhere, is he Braun?”

“No, the Professor did not survive Norway, but his death led to my successes. He would be pleased to know you are here at the end. Yes the end of it all” he giggled and spasmed again into a coughing fit.

I let my anger subside a little and used my pendent to listen to Braun’s emotions and wants, most distasteful. They were the usual bully boy fantasies, twisted by the encroaching dementia, and overlaid with a recurring Wagnerian theme?

“Sergeant, get your men to bring in the spiders web and wrap this one up. Get all these crates loaded onto that truck and prepare to move out back to HQ. We might not have much time”. I ordered.

The squad used the insulated and warded tongs to move Braun from the bed and onto the tarpaulin which was inscribed with a dizzying inlay of runes and sigils. There were only two dozen or so of these in the whole of Q section, as there was a limit to how fast and securely the aged nuns from the Sisters of the Merciful Release could stitch them. Helen made sure her squad had two. They then wrapped it around and around the prone warlock, and when he was strapped and gagged loaded him into the back of the German truck along with the crates of files and equipment. 

The cautious drive back towards the temporary base allowed Helen to get some rest. She was bone tired of the cold, of the dirt and of the stress from creeping around a war zone trying not to be killed by either side, especially now when the end of the war was so close. The cold and damp made the ache in her left arm almost constant, the traumas from Norway, Egypt, and thrice damned Croydon all contributed to the throb. She might be leading one of the most successful of the Laundry’s snatch squads but now her only strategic goals concerned a hot shower, a hot meal and sleep, and not dying today. The small convoy eventually pulled into the school/college buildings they had seized in the town of Celle. The large rooms were never warm enough for her but the thick walls and cellars made it ideal for the storage of some of the liberated assets and their interrogations. Helen quickly signed over Braun and the crates of files to the duty Auditor and gave a brief verbal report. Then having had her squad stood down for 48 hours she climbed the stairs to the attic where she had confiscated a room for herself. She could only sleep if she was as far as possible from the unpalatable happenings in the basement. Though having seen the “camp” on the outskirts of the town she had thought she would never sleep again. Her batman had left some hot food and tea next to the bed; she wolfed it down, kicked off her boots and rolled the blankets around herself, uniform and all, and was asleep in minutes.

The sound of a knock on the door and it opening startled Helen awake with a jolt. The smell of bacon butties and tea wafted into the room, reassuring as Death did not usually do the catering.

“Morning Ma’am, it’s only me! I’ve brought some breakfast” Private Jakes, a girl even shorter than Helen bustled around the sparse room. After placing the food in reach she stripped the noisome battledress from Helen and then she brought some hot water and a cleaner uniform and the news. “There is a bit of a fuss on downstairs Ma’am, it seems a bunch of Staff officers are on their way over. I hear tell that your last haul has caused a bit of a stir Ma’am” she wittered on as she wiped Helen down and tried to do something with her hair.

“Mmmthth” I muttered around my breakfast, “I’m sure you’ll find out before me Jakes, you know I rely on you.

“Yes, Ma’am, one of the Lieutenants let slip we might get a shower detachment and an ENSA show by the end of the week.”

“Well at least one thing to look forward to then” I replied “see what you can do with the battledress Jakes, I think I will need it again soon. Don’t worry, this time it is only mud”.

Helen was surprised, a whole day and a night’s sleep, what a luxury. A meeting with senior officers meant that yet again something unpleasant was heading her way, no surprise there.

As she spruced up her uniform, the last remaining one she had managed to get tailored in London, she cast a quick scan over the building to register that there were indeed several shielded but powerful “colleagues” bustling about on the lower floors. All men as usual, apart from Helen and Jakes, there were only two other women staff on site. A wash of loneliness quickly passed over her. Perks had been ordered to take her squad to Wolfsberg and the factories there, that had been three weeks ago, and she had not seen Daphne in six months.

“Ah well lets go and see what it is this time” she said to herself and straightened up and went downstairs. Since SOE Q department were “sharing” the command with T Force there was a surprising mixture of uniforms milling about in the dining hall that doubled as the officers’ mess. She grabbed a mug of tea and quickly did a social round. Most the men here had been very suspicious if not hostile of her and Perks when they had first arrived, but hard work, success and always bringing all their men back alive gained them some grudging respect. Helen could pick up that there was a definite air of expectancy about what was to happen, many theories but no facts. Then a wave of hush spread across the room as a line of senior officers, their staff and some civilians rushed through to a briefing room. As always Helen was too short to see who it was as they rushed past but a faint sensation told her that one was the Chairman, another Colhoun and some other senior wizards. As she was trying to peer past some soldier’s shoulders a crackling whispering in her ears caused her to bolt to attention and blurt “Mr Angleton, you surprise me again”. She turned to face the suited figure behind her, who seemed to be trying out a new smile.

“Well Helen, I see you are still in one piece. Maybe we can catch up later, mmh?” he said

“Yes, sir!” I stammered a reply with a salute, as he left to follow the disappearing tail of senior staff. My unexpected and obvious embarrassment gave much amusement to the other officers around me. Damn he always catches me off guard. The fact that some of the Laundry’s heavy hitters had all turned up here and now left me furiously thinking about the future and my chances of surviving to the end. I wandered out of the atmosphere in the officers’ mess to check on my squad. The vehicles were stored next to the main building but the men were billeted around the mainly intact buildings around the school. Celle seemed to have got off lightly when captured as many buildings stilled had some roof and most walls. I found the sergeants and got them to prepare the men for moving out sooner rather than later. Repairs to trucks, radios and firepower would keep them busy until I knew more. Briefings seemed to be going on without me so I took the time to do the never ending bureaucracy and also send some letters back to family. More hot food and a sneaky nap got me to 1800 hours and back to the mess for more food with the other officers. Experience had taught me to eat first and talk later, so I was ready when the call came through and my fate was sealed.

 

It seems that Braun still had some secrets to give up before the end. Some of which were backed up by rushed translations of some of the files I had brought back. Anyway the top brass and Mahogany row were all agog at the chance to catch Himmler and the rest of the top Nazi wizards as they made their last stand in the Schwartzwalder Forest. Braun’s interrogation revealed hints about a last chance super weapon that they wanted to get hold of before the Americans or the Soviets caught wind of it. Anyway the plan was to link up with the “Black Watch” Highlanders then search for and destroy the site in the forest. It seemed to boil down to a smash and grab raid by mad Scotsmen led by combat inexperienced staff. What could possibly go wrong? It seemed the imminent end of the war was making some officers come out of the woodwork to make themselves heroes. While those of us with the experience just wanted to hide in a hole until it was all over. Thank the Gods they realised I was a women and could be safely relegated to liaise with T force and secure the secondary site mentioned by Braun in Kiel.

 

To make sure I kept my squad out their madness I collected my orders and roused my men and were on the road to Hamburg by 0500 hours. The only unpleasant surprise was that I seemed to have acquired Mr Angleton. “It’s been a while since I saw Kiel, Helen” was all he would say on the topic. It took most of the grey drizzly day to get to Hamburg, the traffic was horrendous as the army congealed around the remains of the city, readying itself for the assault. We refuelled, were fed and passed on through, as my contact had forged on past Hamburg and was now in Lubeck on the Baltic coast. A night drive through probably enemy held territory and we entered Lubeck at dawn. The trucks were refuelled again, the men fed and I took Mr Angleton to find our liaison, a Major Hibbert.

“We are from SOE Major and we need to get to Kiel” I said as I saluted.

“So you want to get to Kiel, do you? Well it seems everyone and his dog wants someone to get to Kiel. Every day I have a plan and everyday it gets changed and postponed. Today, Kiel is cancelled and I have orders from SHAEF signed by Eisenhower himself to get troops into Wismar and to hold it against all eventualities. Can you top that or are you here to help?” Hibbert’s tirade wound down and he slumped back into his seat behind his desk.

I could not help but be impressed by his lack of concern that I was a woman and by his energy especially as he seemed to have his leg in a cast.

“You came with some trucks, if you take them with supplies to Wismar and link up with the 3rd and 5th parachute regiments I’ll put you on the rota for the next try to Kiel, hopefully by then the armour I have been promised will be released from Hamburg, and they can deal with the two SS divisions supposed to be between here and Kiel. Or you can go on your own. Well Captain what is it to be?”

“Well Mr Angleton, what do you think?” I muttered, seeing no good choices.

“It would be nice to see Wismar before anything happens to it don’t you think Helen?” he replied with a smile.

Hibbert seemed bemused that the civilian had a vote in what was to be done but signed some orders and dismissed us.

“Sergeant get the men billeted and I need a volunteer driver and guard for each of the trucks, jeep and armoured car. Get them loaded up with as many supplies as they will carry, were leaving in an hour”.

The drive from Lubeck to Wismar was a slow slog. Her pendant woke and started to pulse as it fed on the emotions of fear and desperation filling the air as Helen and her trucks forced their way through the endless torrents of civilians and soldiers fleeing from the threat of the Russians advancing from the East. Then suddenly the road was clear even of stragglers as Wismar came into view. Helen and Mr Angleton in her armoured car led the trucks through Wismar to the central square. The paratroopers quickly unloaded her trucks as she and Mr Angleton went up the steps into the Rathaus. They were shown through into an office now buzzing with British officers. Helen’s pendent now pulsed as it accepted the air of enthusiastic dread and bravado around it.

“Well, Captain Hunter what have you brought me? Any armour or more troops?” said the busy Colonel behind the desk as he continued filling in forms.

”No Sir, just a few trucks of ammunition and food, by the look of it. Sorry Sir.” Helen replied

“Well it will just have to do for now and then I can get you to..

“Sir, the Russian are here Sir, about two miles or so down the Eastern road” a private shouted into the room as he arrived and saluted.

“Well that tears it, right lads we will go with plan B, get to your positions and best of luck to us all. Captain Hunter you are welcome to join us on the East bridge or you can scarper back to Lubeck and tell them the news.” He said as he grabbed a kit bag and marched off to the door with the rest of the officers.

Helen and Angleton stared after the exiting paratroopers. Angleton gave Helen a look and a shrug, so they followed and finding her jeep and armoured car still in the square, ordered her troops to follow the rapidly disappearing paras. After 10 minutes hustling through the deserted streets she crossed a bridge and pulled in behind the collection of trucks, cars and officers clustered behind a brightly striped pole blocking the road. The buildings either side of the road leading to the bridge were decked with fluttering Union Jack flags. She caught up with the Colonel she had met before, except he had now gained a dress uniform, as had most of the officers around her. “Well Colonel you said something about plan B would you like to explain?”

The colonel had his binoculars focussed on the noisy dust cloud about a mile away.

“Yes Captain, plan B for bluff like billyo. You see, we know they have orders to sweep through the Germans and take Denmark and so seize control of the Baltic. Wismar has the only bridges left to get heavy armour across for 50 miles around so they need to go through here. Well we and now of course you, are hoping that they don’t have orders to sweep through us to get there. So we are going to put on a show that the Brits are here in force to meet their glorious allies and end the war here, “No need to go any further, have a scotch Ivan!” So I am basically hoping that they are soldiers who don’t want to cause a scene and get political. Of course if that does not work, we blow the bridges and fight to last round. Still want to stay Captain?” he asked as he finally put down the binoculars and turned towards her with a smile.

“Smythe, have you found anyone at all who can speak any Russian?” he called back to the waiting officers, before Helen could answer.

“No Sir. The civilians only know how to say “we surrender” and “please don’t rape my daughter”. Sorry sir” replied a harried looking lieutenant.

“Not much use to us then. Well we will just have to play it by ear and smile a lot. Anyone remember how we are supposed to be nice to foreigners?” said the colonel as he returned to scanning the approaching armoured horde, now only half a mile away.

“If I may be so bold Colonel, but I have a smattering of Russian” said Angleton as he stepped closer.

The colonel turned to look at Angleton and Helen again. “Who is it you said you were, again?”

“We are from SOE Colonel, Q Section. My associate Mr Angleton and I would like to offer you our full assistance”, I put in before Angleton could speak. Well I was the one in uniform after all. The brief flicker of distaste across his face betrayed the fact he had heard of us, well at least of Q section anyway.

“Well Captain and Mr Angleton, you have my permission to bluff, cajole, lie and bribe your way to making sure the Russians stop here, and go no further. Are you up to it? Because here they come! Sergeant get the tea and sandwiches ready and have the whisky on display.”

The column of tanks had stopped at the end of a row of houses that led up to the bridge and the British position. They were very large tanks to Helen’s eyes. A figure popped up from the top of the lead tank and spent several minutes watching them through binoculars. Infantry could be seen spreading out from the column into the surrounding houses and streets. Then after shouting at a figure on the back of the tank who ran off, the tank commander waved a flag at the rest of the tanks and slowly the throbbing diesel noise wound down as the tanks stopped and crew popped up out of the hatches to see what was going on. Ten more minutes passed with nothing much happening, the clouds cleared slightly and sunshine brightened the flags. Then a jeep and a truck crept up to the lead tanks and more officers and soldiers watched us watch them. Then they reloaded themselves into the jeep and drove up to the barrier. The tense standoff lasted a few minutes until Angleton called out in Russian and invited the officer and his men over to celebrate the meeting of allies. The sight of food and bottles and the lack of shooting enticed the officer over. There then followed rounds of incomprehensible chat from both sides as each laid out their mission and orders. Of course only Angleton knew what each side was saying so maybe there was some massaging of facts, so Helen grabbed a tray of bacon butties and some bottles of whisky and forced herself into the crowd at the barrier. After dispensing the refreshments everything seemed to go much more light-heartedly. Helen helping things along by releasing a little feel good emotional energy from her pendent to relax things a bit further. The Russian troops on the truck dismounted and mooched over to the squaddies and started swapping cigarettes and bottles.

“Well, this seems to be going nicely Helen, especially with your help.” Angleton said with a nod towards my hidden pendent. “We should be able to leave within an hour or so…Ah bugger!” he turned to face back down the road as another Russian jeep roared up the road to the checkpoint. “I think this one I will have to deal with my way, Helen” he muttered.

The jeep slewed to a halt and a pudgy red faced officer got out and started shouting as he marched up to the bemused officers. He was half way to them when he staggered to a halt and his face went white. He coughed and spluttered for a few seconds then, in a strained voice ordered the officers to carry on, then walked stiff legged back to the jeep and left. Only Helen had noticed the burst of occult power from Angleton as he had taken the man’s soul and controlled his dead body back to the jeep. The celebration’s brief halt ended and balalaika’s and bagpipes mysteriously appeared as whisky and vodka disappeared. More and more officer’s mooched up from the Russian lines to join the party and then there were photographers and a Russian film crew to record the historic meeting of Allies. Then after an hour or so the Russians wound their way back down the road and billeted in the town.

The colonel approached Helen and Angleton as they waited by her armoured car. “Well Captain and Mr Angleton I must say you have been very useful. They have decided to halt here and wait out for more orders from above. My men report they haven’t even tried to flank to the south. So, overall a success I’d say. Once again, thank you for your help”.

“With your permission Sir, I would like to withdraw my men back to Lubeck, for our next mission” I put in with a salute before he could be distracted by his jeep pulling up.

“Of course Captain, and good luck.”

“By the way Colonel what was plan A to be?” Angleton asked as the Colonel got into the jeep.

“Oh that. It was attack and kick their arses back to Poland. We are paratroopers after all Mr Angleton” he said with a smirk as the jeep trundled off.

“Well Helen I think it is time we got back to Lubeck and on to Kiel before time runs out” Angleton muttered shaking his head at the disappearing jeep.

 

 

Lubeck had got a lot busier while Helen had been away. T force had always been a motley collection of services and civilian soldiers, now all shades of them seemed to be present and strutting around Lubeck waiting for the go order to Kiel. Even Q section had reinforced Helen with another squad. Helen found where her squad had commandeered a workshop and house near the town centre. They had wisely left a room for Helen where she was catching up on the constant bureaucracy of fighting her secret war. The eager beaver Lieutenant Armstrong who knocked and entered the room approached Helen with new sealed orders was all she that she expected and learned to dread.

“Captain Hunter it’s an honour to serve with you ma’am” he managed to stutter out as he handed over the package. The look of loathing Helen gave the package only made him feel even smaller.

“Well Lieutenant what experience do you have in the field?” she asked as she unwrapped the package and its wards.

“Eh well, I have had all the training in Blighty but have just shipped in from Antwerp, and joined my squad there.” he replied

“Well some advice for you, get your squad settled into quarters and fed then get the sergeant to get them fixing the vehicles, radio and weapons maintenance because we always move out sooner rather than later. That way they might keep you alive long enough” she said to him as she concentrated reading the orders, “Dismissed, Lieutenant Armstrong”

Angleton glared at the retreating officer with another unknowing look.

“Well Mr Angleton it seems our orders have just got a bit more complicated. In my experience complicated only means more people have to die. Any advice? Mmh didn’t think so” she muttered at him as she read and reread the despatch with more and more alarm.

The news over the radio was that Hamburg had finally fallen and this only served to raise expectations that now they would be launched at Kiel, hopefully with some of the long promised armour. Hibbert called a staff meeting at 1800hrs for all the assorted T-force officers. Helen and the new Lieutenant Armstrong attended for Q section. Mr Angleton, though obviously a civilian, had no problem finding a seat. The school hall they were gathered in was already stuffy with cigarette smoke and expectation as Hibbert limped up to the desk, his leg still in a cast. Hush descended and after milking the quiet for a moment Hibbert launched into the briefing. Helen and Mr Angleton, already knew their target, but she had felt strangely reluctant to share that with the new Lieutenant. Hibbert’s list of targets of opportunity consisted of the usual secret factories, weapon testing grounds, airfields, the Walterwerke U Boat factory and seemingly every boat and dock in the Baltic, which accounted for the larger than usual crew of Navy, Marines and SBS lurking in the hall. Then Helen inwardly groaned as the surprise was released.

“Well, gentlemen the icing on the cake is that orders from SHAEF are that we are to go by dawn and seize Kiel with all due haste. It seems that Intelligence has strong evidence that the Russians are about to launch a landing to seize Kiel and the canal, so we have to get there first and hold them off. The armoured column won’t get there for another two days, but we have to be in position, in Kiel to fend off the Russians by this time tomorrow. High Command think that another show of force will dissuade Uncle Joe like it did at Wismar. I know that…”

Helen had sunk into her chair in despair, “I had almost made it safely out, now they are throwing me at the Russians as well as the Nazi’s” she thought in despair.

“Sir, sir, it’s over, it’s all over” came an excited shout, as a corporal raced up to the desk waving a handful of paper. There was a surprised murmur throughout the hall, but outside the rumour was spreading fast. The Germans had called a ceasefire and General Dempsey had ordered all units in 2nd Army to hold fast on their present positions. The war was all over but for the signing.

“Well gentlemen we will have to meet again in one hour after I have clarified our orders in the face of this momentous news.” Hibbert hobbled off towards his office.

Helen looked around, the hall was full of conflicting emotions; the old lags were struck dumb that they had survived and now it is all over, while the new guys looked disappointed that they would not have their moment of glory. Helen looked at Angleton, he looked both sad and annoyed. “Helen we still have to get to Kiel, it is vitally important that we get there before the Russians. Our war has not ended yet. Don’t give up and fail me now” the crackly voice in her head whispered.

Helen shivered as a wave of anger passed over her. “I never give up, I never fail, don’t you accuse me of that shit,” she glared at Angleton, “Right Armstrong you get outside and mount the two squads up and ready to go at a moment’s notice while I go and see what the hell is happening with Hibbert.” She stormed off across the hall, as the rest of the world started to celebrate.

She cornered Hibbert in his small office as he put down the phone. “Well Captain if you and your civilian have any privileges at Army HQ, now is the time to pull them out of the hat. We are still ordered to get to Kiel but we are not allowed to advance beyond our position without 2nd Army authorisation. Get me to HQ outside Hamburg and back by dawn and we could still do it. What do you say?” he glared at Helen daring her to answer one way or the other.

“Well I have a jeep and an armoured car and men who do what I say, let’s go and get this cleared up” she answered softly, with a nod.

 

In a dim and dusty corridor, outside a small office in the factory that was now the field HQ for 2nd Army, Helen paced up and down trying to calm her nerves over the fact that she was helping someone try to get her put back into harm’s way. Mr Angleton had taken the only chair and faded back into the shadows. The time it was taking and the sound of arguing coming through the door seemed not to bode well for Hibbert’s plan. Helen’s worries finally snapped her patience and she reached for the door handle.

“Ah Helen you might find this useful, in your negotiations” Angleton’s dry voice whispered out of the dark and a hand passed across a bottle of whisky, “From our friends in the paratrooper regiment” he added.

The ruffled officer behind the desk looked and smelled as if he had not left his post for forty eight hours, Helen smiled brightly at him and saluted as he tried to tug his uniform into order and smooth down his hair.

“Well sir, I am with Major Hibbert and attached to T-Force, it seems a shame that you are stuck here tonight while everyone else is celebrating the end of the war, Sir. So I have brought in a little gift from the men for you, as a little token of appreciation for all your efforts so far.” Helen had quickly opened the bottle and sloshed generous amounts into the tin cups on the desk, for the officer and Hibbert.

“Well if it’s from the men, then that would I think be acceptable, I try to look after them you know,” he winked at Helen as he gulped a sizeable amount of the whisky.

“Oh sir, I see that Major Hibbert has shown you our lawful orders from SHAEF to get to Kiel with all possible speed” Helen said as she nodded at the paperwork on the desk and slipped her hand from a pocket.

“Well yes, now about that…” he tried to reply, but as he looked up his gaze was caught by the compulsion on Helen’s warrant card as she thrust it into his face.

“Well now that you agree we have lawful orders from your superiors you can sign the authorisation for Major Hibbert and all under his command to proceed unhindered to Kiel” the stern tone Helen used and the compulsion on the warrant card had the officer reaching for the paper work with a shudder.

“Now sir, we will leave and let you enjoy the rest of the evening with some celebrating. Major Hibbert your car is ready” Helen smoothed over the officers shock as she swept up the paperwork and helped Hibbert from the room.

In the corridor, she turned fiercely on him and leaned up towards his face, as she gripped his tunic, her petite height suddenly looming impossibly large to him.

“You saw nothing, I was not here, this did not happen. You got him drunk and he signed the orders. Is that clear Major?” Helen glared at him until his white face coughed a “Yes Captain”.

Helen turned sharply and headed down the corridor “Mr Angleton, it’s time we were somewhere else. Let’s get this mission finished with,” She scowled over her shoulder as she stormed out in a cloud of angry desperation.

 

T-force launched itself at Kiel as dawn broke over Lubeck. Jeeps, trucks and armoured cars raced up the single road to Kiel. Their speed of advance only increased Helen’s feelings of trepidation over the whole affair. She knew in her bones that her luck would run out one day, and as a veteran she knew today was as good as any other day. She had habitually rode in the armoured car she and her squad had acquired in Holland, but today she found herself with Mr Angleton and a guard in the jeep. The fresh air was definitely keeping her awake at least, well the pills helped with that as well. The road widened which allowed some of the more reckless and gung-ho detachments to make a break for the distant Northern horizon. Helen tutted as another jeep of marines made their break across the autobahn past her group.

The only sight of the feared SS divisions, were some men in a field next to the highway who on seeing their speeding column just watched or ran for the woods. The speed of their advance and the bright blue sky of a spring day, the rush of air and the exhilaration of not being shot at eventually brought a smile to Helen’s face. Her pendant even slowly pulsed in acceptance of these long missed emotions from her. Their approach to Kiel was unopposed but not safe, as Helen’s detachment found on entering the outskirts of Kiel to find a jeep of dead Marines wrapped around a tree. Her elation of speed vanished and the warrior survivor took over again. Her group slowed again to the sound of ratcheting 30 calibre machine guns. The slow and winding approach to Kiel led her to the sound of gunfire. She stopped the detachment 50 yards from the bridge on which some squaddies were laying down some suppressing fire into the buildings on the far bank. A figure waved them forward and shouted out they were to floor it. So they did and crossed the bridge without suffering return fire. Helen slowly relaxed the grip on her seat, as she did not die from the impact of an 88 on her unprotected flesh, or that the bridge did not explode from under her.

Kiel was surprisingly empty of willing opposition. The gunfire on the bridge stuttered to an end as Helen neared the town centre. She had her target but she caught sight of some trucks flying the T-force flag heading into the centre and ordered her driver to follow. She arrived at the imposing, if slightly foxed by the RAF, town square to see Hibbert limp out of his jeep as his squad spread out and he headed up the stone steps toward the lone Nazi officer at the top of the stairs. Helen instinctively prepared an algorithm and began a chant but stopped as the cold, dread hand of Mr Angleton reached across from the back seat and grasped her shoulder.

“We have to be somewhere else Helen. Maybe later.” He whispered to her.

She waved forwards to her driver and they squealed on towards the docks. There were now more civilians about, most seemed to be heading for the docks, but as soon as her jeep and trucks appeared they dashed for cover. Then suddenly the townscape gave way to the industrial as she entered the dockside and glimpsed through the warehouses and cranes her target, the battleships Admiral Hipper and Prinz Eugen. Her little convoy pulled to a halt at the end of the docks, dwarfed by the colossal bulk of the two warships

“Well Mr Angleton you read the orders, which ship do you want?” Helen looked with distaste at the remaining pride of the Nazi navy. Even from the end of the docks and through the thousands of tonnes of armoured steel she could feel the baleful itching that some abominations were leaking occult power.

“Mmm, I think Helen, I will take the pointy one over there” he replied as he straightened his suit and mackintosh, while pointing at the Prinz Eugen with his umbrella. “Mr Armstrong, I will be taking your squad, have them sent over there.”

“Sir” Armstrong replied with a salute as Angleton ambled down the dock.

“Armstrong stop saluting before a sniper gets over the shock and shoots you for being an idiot. Send your squad over then you can accompany me to the other target, Mr Angleton has a habit of bringing most of the men back alive, but he is less careful with new first Lieutenants. Stick close to me or my sergeant and you might just survive to the end of the day. Get your special kit and start paying attention, this is not a drill”, I growled at him, while I rummaged through the kit bags in the jeep and began filling the pockets of my battledress and satchels, with as much occult whizz bangery as I could carry.

The sergeants and n.c.o’s clustered around her as she stood behind the armoured car and outlined the plan.

“Unfortunately lads I can’t let you lose to kill them all as the war is now over, and that sort of thing is now frowned upon. So this will have to be stealthy and diplomatic. Secure the boarding points and then get me to the bridge or to the first navy officer we find alive and then I will get them to stand down, and surrender the ship. Once that is done, we will evacuate the Navy crew to those warehouses while we sweep and search the ship. Any special flavour Nazis then either withdraw until I can support you, or kill them, take no chances. Once the ship is secure, no one but us and Q section personnel are to be allowed on or off the boat. According to intelligence from HQ we may have to repel some unwanted visitors. Now 5 minutes to get your squads updated and in position. Squad one with me and we will start on the boarding ramp nearest the bridge. Dismissed”

The troops dispersed across the dock, Helen turned to now pale faced Lieutenant. “Armstrong, this is not a usual operation. Can you feel those power sources in the ship? There is something nasty in there and we two are the only ones equipped to deal with it. So let the squads do any fighting and stay alive so we can deal with the important stuff. Remember we are going to talk first and get the Navy to surrender the ship. Then see what we will see.” With a nod we stepped out from the shelter of the armoured car and walked up to the boarding ramp. I shuddered down my intense feeling of foreboding and with a grimace marched up the ramp. Our activities had finally attracted some interest as some faces looked down from the superstructure as we boarded the ship. An officer poked his head around an armoured door and looked at me, as my bodyguards spread out across the narrow deck and superstructure.

I called out in my best friendly German, “Halloo, are you the officer on watch? Can we have a chat? The war is over don’cha know!”

The officer crept from behind the door and keeping a careful eye on the heavily armed soldiers spread across his ship, walked towards Helen and Armstrong. With a sharp salute at Armstrong he rattled off his name. Armstrong gulped and nodded his head at Helen as the navy officer did a double take and refocussed on her.

“My apologies Frau Kapitan, but I did not expect your arrival so soon. My lawful orders from Navy HQ are to observe the ceasefire; if you can guarantee the safety of my men then we will surrender the ship to you.”

“Of course sir, you may withdraw your men to the dockside in good order. But first you will have to tell me about what is going on down in the holds.” I replied with a steely smile that made him blanch.

“They are not Navy personnel and I cannot be held responsible for their madness, please Kapitan, I need to get my men off this ship.” He replied angrily.

“Your men are free to evacuate, but you sir need to stay until we have had a private chat.”

Within 30 minutes the warship had been cleared of sailors. Helen had taken over the bridge room and her squad were brewing up and Armstrong was rummaging through some blueprints of the ship. She passed the naval officer a mug of tea which he sipped with a grimace of distaste.

“Well Kapitan now that your men are safely ashore you have a lot of explaining to do about who and what is down below.” I gave the officer a smile and offered a cigarette, he greedily inhaled. I thought it best not to explain about the truth spell implanted in the tobacco.

“They came aboard at the end of February with orders from the Reichsfȕhrer himself, most of the crew and officers were to be redeployed to Rostock and leave me and a skeleton crew of 80 men to maintain the ship for them. After 2 weeks they started sealing off sections of the hull and the holds. I only had access to the upper decks, and then my men started to disappear. Almost half have gone in the last three weeks.”

“Deserters?” asked Armstrong

“No, just disappeared. If they had deserted we would have had the SS here hanging people. Any one on duty on the lower decks would never be seen again. I was ordered not to enquire, not to interfere. They would come and go as they pleased, usually loading more and more stores. I think there are only about 4 officers still aboard with a dozen or so men”

“Mmm, I think you can show us the entry point and then I will release you to take care of your men on the dockside. Don’t go far though; I may need to speak to you again.” I ordered.

The dim stairwell was damp and colder than it should have been. There was a peculiar smell that put Helen’s squad on edge. That was even before the faint pulsing of green light started leaking past the bulkhead door and vents. I stood pensively gazing at the bulkhead door at the end of the cramped corridor as the last demolition charges were applied. The breaching squad were lining up behind me doing the last minute preparation and fidgeting assault troops always go through before the off. All the steel surrounding me was definitely cramping my senses, only vague flashes of dread and “evil” would latch on to my senses.

“Well I can’t detect anything immediate through the door, so whenever you are ready Sergeant, blow the door and seize the corridor and the first few rooms then hold until I have a look. Good luck men.” And with a nod at them I withdrew back up the stairwell to the first landing out of line of sight, and waited for the blasts.

I found Armstrong trying to load his revolver, his nervousness apparent when some of the rounds clattered to the ground at my feet. I bent and picked one up.

“You should get one of the men to get you a Browning automatic, the Webley is never very accurate.” I muttered at him while scrutinising the round in my hand.

“I was told with these new rounds I would not have to be too accurate, they have some banishment sigils engraved into the silver and lead shot and a tungsten tip for penetration. They’re brand new I was only issued them last week, not had a chance to use them yet.” Armstrong replied embarrassedly.

“Just make sure you don’t point them at Mr Angleton or me.” I replied as I passed him the last round.

The boom from the breaching charges shook the stairwell like a bell and smoke drifted up from below.

“Well let’s go and see who is at home” I said as I cautiously and led him down the stairs.

The bulkhead door was down but so too was one of my men, ten feet inside the corridor. The sergeant was still at the doorway with the rest of the squad flattened either side of the doorway.

“Ma’am, Henricks is down but no return fire received. There must be some booby traps.”

“Sergeant, get a spider’s web ready to try and retrieve his body and pass me and the Lieutenant some of those confetti grenades. Armstrong you know the opening chant for these don’t you, good. You throw long and I’ll take this end of the corridor. 3, 2 and go” I pulled the pin and tossed the grenade just beyond the dead Hendricks, and quickly ducked back behind the doorway.

The muffled double boom was reassuring and a quick glimpse around the door saw the corridor filled with slowly sinking threads and strips of aluminium, some of which flared green as they discharged the death spells laced across parts of the corridor.

“Right you lot get that web on Hendricks and pull him back here. Ma’am if you can check he has fully gone” bawled the sergeant

A quick pass over the prone figure with my pendent and I replied “He’s gone Sergeant and nothing else seems to be in residence. Keep him wrapped up till we get back I don’t want any more surprises.”

“I need two men at the far end, then the Lieutenant and I will check the rooms either side, Sergeant. You ready Armstrong?” I asked with a searching look. He gulped and nodded.

The dim light in the corridor lent the floor a sparkly look as the air slowly cleared of the smell of cordite and singed metal. I stepped out into the corridor, the corporal and a squaddie had made it to the end of the corridor without incident, but wisely took up a position inside the confetti chaff zone.

I slipped out my “truncheon” from under my battledress and gripping it tightly, started a slow chant, and pushed with it on the first door. Some officers preferred the full wizard’s staff look but I found the extra length a hindrance in close quarter action and anyway I did not want to go down the “mine is bigger than yours” rubbish I had come across in London. Mine was made of teak and inscribed with silver sigils for some protection, the lead core also made it heavy enough to seriously clout someone, which was always useful.

The first three pairs of rooms contained only machinery, or crates. None of which was immediately threatening. The last pair of rooms was where we found the remains of the navy crew. The smell coming through the door was a good warning, as was the smoky discharge from my “staff” as I used it to push open the door.

Stacked like firewood were the desiccated bodies of about two dozen men in navy uniforms. Their skin stretched taught over stick like limbs and skull faces. I had a brief flash back to the living dead at Bergen-Belsen, and with a shudder closed and sealed the door on my side of the corridor. Armstrong looked a bit green and sweaty with tension.

“Well that only took half an hour, Armstrong. How many other corridors are there to go?”

“I think it was a dog leg to the left then a long 50 yard corridor should get us to the first large hold, where the navy officer said the SS were mainly set up. Since they know by now we are here, we don’t have to be too subtle about what we are doing then Ma’am. The Soviets could be here in a few hours.” he replied.

“One job at a time Armstrong, focus on this and you should live long enough to deal with the next problem.”

So we slowly worked our way up the corridors, confetti grenade and wand work dealing with the low grade passive defences we met. No active opposition appeared.

The paired rooms now started to hold more esoteric items. Rune engraved slabs, stone crosses and crucifixes, shelves of scrolls and books, medieval weaponry and armour. Each on their own would have given me pause , but collected and stacked here like an old junk shop they gave off a teeth gritting miasma that seemed to thicken the very air. The last room on the left though was the worst. You could feel the hunger and lust vibrating through the metal walls and floor. The smell of blood and other fluids was making me gag. Armstrong reached out for the door handle in a daze. I quickly swung my truncheon and knocked his wrist down and safely away. His yelp of pain and flash of anger at me as I pulled him by his webbing back from the door was enough to re-focus his attention.

“Careful Lieutenant, and you were doing so well so far. This is one for me”, I muttered at him.

An automatic calculation brought up the shield function from my pendent and a brief invocation forced the shield into the door which sprang inwards. At first glance it appeared that a string quartet had just dumped their tatty instruments down and hurriedly left. There was a cello, a couple of violins and violas, all in a tacky off white colour and in various states of disrepair. My pendent had begun to glare with its amber light as my guest took in the horror in front of me. Through its senses the collection of instruments morphed into a snarling pack of indescribable horrors, spitting at each other and snapping at me from a room now infinitely larger, and as dark as drying blood. Their discordant screeching and the smell of rot competed in their repulsion at me and I slowly staggered backwards across the infinite plane only to trip over my feet and fall out into the corridor.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” I could hear myself screeching from the floor.

“If you don’t mind Helen, I would like a look before you seal it up” crackled a familiar voice in my inner ear.

Dammit! How come I can never catch him sneaking up? Through gritted teeth and a smile I replied “Of course Sir. Armstrong stand back and let Mr Angleton have look. Was there anything of interest on the other ship, Sir?”

“Oh, a few bits and bobs, that might come in useful later.” He replied off-handedly, as he glared in at the dusty instruments in the shabby storeroom and closed the door and sealed it with a whisper and a wave of his hand.

“Do get up Helen, no time to rest now. We will have a chat later about this room” he said quietly and wandered off to the end of the corridor. Armstrong held out his hand and with a wince pulled me up. We followed Angleton to the end of the corridor, carefully shadowed by the sergeant and what was left of the squad. We halted a respectful if not very safe distance from the last bulkhead door. There appeared to be no metaphysical defences on this one but then the lights dimmed as the sound of machinery thrummed to life beyond the door.

“Well it sounds like they are going to have another go. Is there any chance of turning off the power in there Helen?” Angleton mused.

“Then we would lose the lights and put the men at a disadvantage, Sir” I replied, thinking who is having another go at what?

“Right, then time to be unsubtle, your men can take out the door, seize control of the room then we enter and stop this nonsense once and for all. Sergeant when you’re ready.”

A quick nod from me to the Sergeant and then they bustled forward as we stepped back. Within minutes the door was blown in, grenades dispersed, shouting ensued, gunfire boomed, then stopped. I entered what appeared to be a space hemmed in by crates with a short corridor zig zagging between them into a dimly lit room beyond.

The sound of machinery increased in pitch, as I crept along the gap between the crates. The view from the end looked familiar from my memories of Norway and Croydon. The horror came flooding out of my memories and I froze in shock. Orgone transmitters linked to electrical generators and an occult ring. At each quadrant of the ring a shadowy figure in black was chanting at a fifth figure in the centre, which was stood over what looked like a heavily inscribed Dewar flask which was gently steaming or pulsing out some gas or fluid.

It was then that the possessed bodies of the SS guards lurched out of the shadows and over the crates to attack us. The firefight was horrendously loud but not loud enough to drown out all the screaming. The green eyed spectre lurched at my throat from behind the last crates, its bony talons missed by a whisker, as Armstrong pulled me over backwards and he fired point blank into the crush of bodies as they piled into the narrow corridor. At this range even he could not miss. The clicking of his revolver as he kept trying to shoot the downed figures snapped me out of the funk. I leapt to my feet as the sound of firing echoed to quiet. The hum of machinery and chanting increased, my breath now noticeably fogging as the temperature dropped dramatically. I had lost my truncheon under the crush of now dead again bodies. I gripped my pendent which flared in amber light and braced with my Browning automatic stepped forward again. The lighting was now flaring erratically. The circle of figures was now screaming their chants as the hole to somewhere else opened in the air above the central figure. The swirling fog effect brought on by the massive drop in temperature as heat and energy funnelled into the widening hole was quite dramatic. The Dewar flask at the feet of the central figure now pulsed with light as whatever it contained started to stream into the hole above it, making it wider and deeper.

Not again I thought as I leapt over the prone guards and paced on to where the orgone transmitter was whirring its aerials around. Cables snaked from it to the inscribed ring and back to the wall. I kicked it over to expose the back and with a hefty tug pulled the power cable out. There was a sizzle and the figure nearest the entry point on the circle caught fire. The falling, burning figure then shorted out the rest of the circle as he fell across the inscribed lines. The chanting stopped to be replaced by screaming as the flickering flames died away. The circle of dark had gone; the Dewar flask no longer glowed. The remaining four SS warlocks were stood rigidly screaming in place as Angleton gingerly stepped from the shadows and across the broken circle to carefully pop the lid back onto the flask.

The surviving soldiers now fanned out across the room, as he crackled into my ears “I think we are done down here now Helen”.

“Sergeant, get these 5 webbed, gagged and tagged, Lieutenant if you can power down any more devices you can find, and then report back upstairs when you have cleaned up down here.” I left them to it and followed Angleton back out and up to the control room. I was grateful to leave the smell of burning flesh behind, even if the taste took longer to leave my mouth.

I had to scurry unsoldierly after the quickly disappearing Angleton, and arrived back at the bridge room to find him ordering the wireless operator “Corporal send this signal back to Q Section field HQ “Darjeeling and Teapot have secured Chalice at site two, 15.40 stop.” No need to encode as the war is over.” I heard him say.

“Sir it is standard procedure to secure communications!” I blurted out at him as he left the room to go outside.

I found him scanning the seafront and dock approaches, “Aha there you are” he muttered.

He passed across the binoculars and pointed. After a few seconds adjusting them I found the source of his interest. Just offshore past the pier or jetty was a semi submerged grey shape. “A U-boat? Here now, whatever for?”

“More likely to be our friends and allies from the East, maybe you could discourage their interest Captain Hunter. It will be a few hours until we get significant reinforcements. Do those big guns still work do you think?” he nodded towards the immense gun turrets.

“Don’t be silly, it would take far too long to figure out, but I could get a squad to fire up the anti-aircraft guns, especially if we don’t need to be too accurate.” I thought out loud

 

A few hours later a convoy of trucks pulled up to the ships and started the transportation of their prizes. Soon after that, Hibbert arrived in his jeep. He hobbled aboard to find Helen slumped and distracted, at a long table in an empty mess hall, shivering around a large mug of tea. Her tanned face now looking greyish, the dark rings around her eyes making her look almost skull like.

“What the hell have you been up to Captain? There have been reports of firing down at the docks, was that your lot?” he demanded. I glanced up at him and tried a smile. He took a step back.

“Oh sorry, Major, that was just some of my men who got carried away with the news of the end of the war and all that. They loosed off a few rounds and flares over the dock front, nothing to worry about. If you would care to liaise with Lieutenant Armstrong, I have been recalled back to Celle with the first delivery of seized material, I should be leaving in a few hours.” I replied towards him.

Maybe he saw something in my expression but he did not hang around and limped off muttering about bloody SOE clowns. Well he was not going to be any happier if he knew my version of the truth. The end of the war might have been a different story if we had been an hour later. Angleton had given me a very brief overview before he left. The flask codenamed “Chalice” contained the death magic from a million, murdered, Hungarian Jews, prepared just too late to be used in the Ardennes offensive, then stored here by Braun to use as a weapon of last resort. The energy density was just enough to open a doorway to another place and then let the energy imbalance freeze the whole of Germany in ice and fire, maybe even the whole world. If he hadn’t been caught ill and stopped overnight in the Luneburg to be snatched by my squad, if the remaining warlocks had been more determined or if we had been slower in the corridors. Oh hell, the “what if’s” could drive you crazy, well even more crazy. Well now this tea has gone quite cold, I may as well make myself busy and get things organised, who knows what they have been up to since I‘ve been in here.

The short, rumpled figure stood and straightened the stained battledress, patted her hair under a beret and stood at the hatchway. The last light of the setting sun illuminated her dark eyes and turned her skin a golden brown. A smile flickered across her face, maybe at the thought of a future still to be had.


End file.
